The Discussion
by ladywildcow
Summary: SLASH HUNT/TYLER. Hunt accuses Tyler of betrayal. A fight breaks out on a wet night behind the pub. Violence leads to passion...Enjoy.


'**The Discussion' by LWC**

**Warning: SLASH HUNT/TYLER.**

**I wrote this ages ago but never posted it. Hope you enjoy it. I do not own Life On Mars. I have merely borrowed two brilliant characters and taken them out for a spin in the smutty wastelands I lovingly call my mind.**

Hunt shoved Tyler hard in the chest and sent him flying backwards into a high brick wall, just behind the Railway Arms. Tyler hit the wall with force, was winded by the impact and dropped to the ground.

It was late, dark and it was lightly raining with the occasional rumble of distant thunder. The pub was still open and the noise of its punters could be heard down the street – a rowdy lot were in tonight. The rain splashed down, making a pattering noise on the metal bins and filling up cracks in the ground.

"Must it always come to this?" Sam asked in exasperation, getting back onto his feet, rubbing his chest.

"Afraid so, Sammy-Boy" Hunt pulled out a hip-flask from his pocket, unscrewed the lid and took a large swig. He watched Tyler get back onto his feet. He looked at Tyler's dampened hair and his scuffed, wet clothes. Tyler looked back at his equally dishevelled D.C.I

"I am not responsible for the death of your grass!" Tyler pointed at Hunt.

Hunt took another swig of whiskey.

"That's not what I heard." Hunt said in a low, menacing voice.

"So..." Sam whispered, looking up at the sky and then back at Hunt. "You don't trust me."

Hunt's face set in a hard expression – his eyes unreadable. He screwed the lid back on the hip-flask and put in back in his pocket.

"You are unbelievable" Sam said, shaking his head.

"Thank you, Sammy-Boy." Hunt crossed his arms and inhaled deeply. "And you, Tyler...I'm not really sure what you are...or what is wrong with you."

Tyler took a step closer to Hunt - his brown eyes darkening – his jaw clenching. Hunt stood still and there was silence.

"Sometimes I just think you are an annoying, know it all little, self-righteous little twat from Hyde"

Tyler brought himself face to face with Hunt.

"Is that right..._**Guv**__?_"

"And other times I think you are a raving fruit-cake who should banged up in a nice padded cell with only a straight-jacket for company."

Their eyes locked. Neither man giving an inch to the other.

"Is that right...Guv?" Tyler asked again, in a soft but cold voice.

Hunt inhaled deeply and whispered into Tyler's face: "Yes, Sammy-boy...that's right."

Sam closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "You know what...?"

"What?"

"why don't you..." Sam grabbed Hunt's shoulders and charged him backwards – letting his grip go and sending Hunt crashing into a couple of metal bins – his hip-flask going flying.

"...just fuck off!" Sam stood over Hunt. "I'm tired of hearing of your snide, bigoted, remarks – I'm tired of 1973..and I'm tired of those shoes" Tyler pointed at Hunt's slip on shoes. Hunt looked at Sam, down to his shoes and then noticed his hip-flask.

"Christ " Hunt growled, looking at the liquid spilling out of the flask.

"That, Tyler, was a single malt" Hunt growled through clenched teeth. Hunt grabbed Tyler's leg and pulled him violently to the ground. Hunt punched Tyler across the jaw and Sam fell onto his back. Hunt leapt over him, straddled him and pulled him up by his collar:

"I'm running the show, Sammy-Boy – something you frequently forget" Hunt brought his face inches from Tyler's. "And I'm tired of my scrawny little D.I running around gobbing off left right and centre, disappearing when he feels like it, keeping things from me..."

Tyler punched him in stomach and rolled on top of him, holding Hunt's collar. Hunt was winded.

"And I'm tired of your arrogance, your complete lack of ethics..." Tyler snarled.

"Oh Shut-up...you bloody poof!" Hunt shouted as he kneed Tyler in the groin.

Tyler winced and fell to the side, clutching his groin.

Hunt was still winded but managed to sit up. The last five minutes was beginning to take its toll on the both of them.

"I wouldn't normally have gone for your crown jewels, Sammy" Hunt said apologetically.

"Piss off" Tyler groaned, trying to breathe.

"I mean...this isn't France" Hunt said matter of factly.

"Wanker"

"Well, there's gratitude"

Tyler managed to sit up, breathing heavily– trying to ease the pain. Hunt had located another hip-flask in his coat and was swigging from that. He offered it over to Tyler – who took a moment to accept it but was 'encouraged 'with a :"Go on – don't be such a girl" from Hunt.

Tyler took a gulp and wiped his mouth. He sat up, next to Hunt.

"Try not to spill that one as well, Tyler."

Tyler gave him a sarcastic grin and took another gulp.

"Why can't we have a proper discussion – just once." Tyler sighed as he felt the burning heat of the alcohol slip down his throat and to his stomach.

"This IS a proper discussion."

Tyler rolled his eyes.

Hunt cast his eyes over at Sam. "You look like shit."

"Ta."

Hunt put his hand in his pocket and pulled out handkerchief and offered it to Tyler – who took it and wiped his mouth . He mopped up some of the blood but also smeared some across his cheek. He looked down at the handkerchief. He noticed it was initialled with a G.H on the corner and it seemed old. Tyler looked at his blood soak over the initials and was momentarily lost in thought.

"Fuck's sake- give it here" Hunt growled, snatching it away from Tyler's hand. Tyler turned his face away from Hunt, his mind lost in thought about the old handkerchief and his blood.

Hunt took a deep breath and reached over and placed his hand across Tyler's chin – his fingers resting on his cheek and slowly turned his face to face him. Tyler raised his eyes to Hunt's. They looked at each other.

"I had nothing to do with your grass's disappearance." Tyler said.

Hunt turned Tyler's face to the side and began gently wiping the smeared blood off his cheek, keeping eye contact the whole time.

After a few moments, Hunt stopped. Tyler remained still as Hunt still held his chin and the side of his face.

"I believe you, Tyler."

His eyes drifted to Tyler's mouth and he paused. Tyler's lip was smeared with blood.

He slowly brushed his thumb over Tyler's lower lip, removing the blood, and his eyes lingered for a moment on his lips. Tyler was about to say something – opening his mouth... but said nothing.

Hunt cleared his throat. He then removed his hand.

"Anyway...I was talking with Raymundo about you."

There was a pause. Tyler looked over Hunt's face, which was now turned away.

"Um...Must've been thrilling." Tyler replied and lifted the hip-flask to his lips.

"He was asking me if YOU were a poof...did I think you'd be the giver or receiver"

Tyler spat out a mouthful of whiskey, in a mixture of surprise, laughter and shock.

"What?" Tyler asked, wiping his chin.

"Well, I said, I wasn't sure."

"What?"

"Stop saying what."

Tyler jus t stared at his D.C.I with an open mouth. He scratched the back of his head and took another swig of whiskey ...and then grinned to himself.

"Hmmm...well, Guv... all I can really say on this highly important, cultural and political point..."

Hunt looked at Tyler with a 'what the fuck?' message glaring from his entire face.

"...is that...if WE.. were a couple of poofs –I'd be the buck and you'd be the doe." Sam hid his wicked grin from Hunt and took another glug of whiskey.

Hunt grabbed the hip-flask out of Tyler's hand and asked: "What?"

"Well, obviously."

"Really?"Hunt glared at Tyler.

"I am the younger, virile stag and well...you're the older, past its prime...stag."

Hunt had a face like thunder.

"You are skating on thin fucking ice, Tyler."

"I'm only stating the obvious." Tyler grinned.

"The Gene Genie is not only in his prime but, if he were gay, he would have YOU on your skinny knees begging him on all fours to fuck the arse off of you"

Tyler raised his eyebrows and crossed his arms.

"Oh, really?"

"Really" Hunt glugged another mouthful of whiskey.

"Because I thought if we were a couple of 'poofs' you'd be on all fours taking it like a bitch"

Hunt sprayed out his mouthful of whiskey and coughed hard.

"WHHHAT?"

"Hmm" Sam nodded.

"NOW, YOU LOOK HERE TYLER!"

"In fact, I'd have to be the giver because...well..as I said ….I am clearly stronger and fitter than you"

Hunt opened and closed his mouth like a goldfish.

"In fact, I don't think you'd be able to give for more than a few minutes"

Hunt fixed him with a deadly glare.

"I mean you drink, smoke and eat junk."

Hunt leapt to his feet and pulled Tyler up by his collar.

"Let's face it, Guv, you are passed your prime."

Hunt came up face to face with Tyler.

"Let's get something straight, Detective Inspector Tyler."

"And what would that be, Guv?"

"I would make you scream like the little Hyde fairy that you are" Hunt grabbed Tyler's collar in each hand and pulled him his face right up to his.

"Well, you see..that wouldn't be possible."

"And why would that be, Tyler"

"Because I'd have you handcuffed to my bed on all fours with a dildo up your arse and my cock in your mouth." Tyler grabbed Hunt's coat collar in each hand. They stood there – a mirror image.

"Oh, is that right?"

"Yeah"

"Hmmm"

"You see, Tyler, THAT wouldn't be possible..."

"No?"

"No...because I'd have your wrists handcuffed to your ankles and tape over your bloody gob."

They glared at one another, hands gripped on each other's collars – rain splashing over their faces.

"Yeah?" Snarled Tyler

"YEAH" answered Hunt.

Pause.

They both pulled their mouths to one another in a crashing, ferocious kiss. Their tongues savagely battled for dominance and they pulled their mouths apart – panting.

"Poof"

"Twat"

Hunt pulled Tyler closer in: "Shut it" he growled and aggressively kissed Tyler. Tyler kissed him back hard.

They parted and looked at each other.

"What would Ray say now?" Tyler asked wickedly.

Hunt looked at the ground and up again. "Simple.." He smirked. "He would say that you a girlie, sissy, poof, bender..."

"uh huh..." Tyler grinned and started to chuckle.

"... and that I ...well...that I am CLEARLY pissed."

"Ahh..I see" Tyler laughed.

Hunt inhaled deeply. "You need to learn your role, Detective Inspector."

"And I suppose you think you can teach me it."

"It isn't a question of can I – you WILL learn your role."

"I see.

"This is what is going to happen. We are going back into the pub, we are going to have a few more pints. Ray and I are going to chat up big Brenda..."

"who?"

"The one with the cracking, great tits"

"Ahh"

"And then we are going back to your 'squat'... for a little discussion."

"Are we now"

"Yes, Tyler, that is EXACTLY what is going to happen."

Tyler wickedly smiled at his D.C.I as they headed towards the pub – limping slightly, mopping up blood and holding their sides. Tyler briefly rubbed his D.C.I on the back.

"Don't get all foreign on me Tyler," Hunt said, giving his D.I a withering look. Tyler smiled.

"No Guv. I wouldn't dream of it."

"Bloody poof"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah" Tyler whispered as he rolled his eyes.

THE END.


End file.
